24 Hours
by thevigilante15
Summary: What happened to Bruce after the tragic first meeting with Scarecrow in Batman Begins? What did Bruce experience during the first 24 hours under the toxin's effects? Perhaps the secrets of Bruce will be released. Chapter 8 is up! Please read and review
1. Chapter 1

Hours

By Tammy Kushnir

This is a new tale that got stuck in my head. First chapter is up. Hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. Some background is borrowed from Batman Begins (great movie) to answer several pesky questions like how did Alfred get Bruce off of the roof? What was Bruce thinking during his time under the toxin? Will it help explain Bruce's past? Hope so.

Chapter 1

Batman had felt himself falling out of a three story building. His senses had been dampened with the fresh scent of kerosene and the heat from the fire it set. Batman felt the agony as his body bumped into metal and concrete. He landed with a thud onto the ground. The people below gawked out of curiosity and fear as the clipped bat struggled to get to his feet. Batman shot a grappling hook to the nearest rooftop. He pulled himself up and collapsed to the ground. Batman's breathing was erratic and the fear toxin was beginning to place deep roots into his thoughts. Batman rolled onto his back smoldering any reaming flames as he pulled out a cell phone to make a call, "Alfred," he rasped.

Alfred, please hurry he prayed.

Alfred awoke from dozing when he heard the phone ring. He immediately grabbed it and tried his best to sound alert.

"Hello, Wayne residence."

Alfred couldn't hear anything at first. Then came several gasping breathes. Alfred's heart raced as he looked at the time. It was 12 am. Bruce….

"Master Wayne?" Alfred questioned.

All he could hear were gentle sobs and a plea to go home. He sounded so young…

"I am on my way, sir."

Alfred dropped the phone and ran to the door. Only one other time in his life had his heart beat so fast: one time for the cry of an 8 year old boy.

When Alfred reached the place where the tracking device had led him to, he felt the misery seep through his own body. No wonder Bruce is always brooding. I would be too if I came here every night, he thought.

Alfred began to make his way through the garbage bags that littered the alley. Rats scampered away under his feet. Alfred never realized how much he treasured the company of the bats as opposed to this vermin until now.

He continued to look for Bruce, but he was no where in sight. Alfred took another look at the tracking device. According to this, he should be right here.

Bruce found himself having hard time breathing. The images of the bats were becoming overwhelming. On top of that, he saw bats swarming around his parents lifeless bodies as they devoured their flesh.

"No, "Bruce whispered. He crawled over to the edge of the roof. His parents seemed to keep moving farther and further away from him each time he tried to get close. Bruce looked skyward and noticed the bats rising higher. Bruce peered over the edge of the roof only to see Alfred standing in the middle of the alley.

"Alfred, "Bruce murmured. It was a sound barely audible but Alfred sensed it and looked up to the roof. He could smell the burnt Kevlar and flesh on Bruce.

My God, what had they done to you? Alfred thought.

"Can you get down sir?"

Bruce looked behind Alfred for a moment trying to plan his next move when there HE was. It couldn't be. Bruce knew logically that Chill was dead. He had seen that with his own eyes. Then again, there he was. .Chill was walking steadily behind Alfred slowly raising a gun to his temple.

"No," Bruce shouted. With all of the force he had left, he threw a batarang which knocked the phantom Chill out cold and throwing himself off balance. Bruce was falling once again.

Alfred looked up when he heard Bruce's cry. He quickly ducked thinking that the batarang was intended for him. Alfred didn't know exactly what Bruce was experiencing, but knew that it wasn't good.

When he realized it was safe, he gazed back up at his ward and saw relief when their eyes met. Then Alfred saw his charge take a tumble off the roof.

Bruce fell. He fell off the roof and into the well of memories preparing him to be covered in screeching bats. The impact to his back even with the Kevlar caused him to cry out in pain. Weakness, Bruce thought. Even the bats know I am weak.

Alfred bent down immediately. He heard Master Bruce stifle a cry barely audible, but Alfred knew that even a whisper meant the pain was bad. God, Alfred thought, he smelled. He smelled like fire. Someone had set him on fire, thought Alfred. Trying to suppress the need to vomit he instinctively reached out to touch Bruce's face searching for injuries. Bruce pulled up his arms defensively. He only used one arm. He began swinging it around trying to push winged beings away. Alfred tried to calm him down. Bruce was wildly rocking his body to the point of convulsions.

"Alfred!" He rasped. "Alfred!" he kept screaming it over and over again.

"Please…" it was said in such small voice.

Alfred tried his best to mask his own tears while gripping the hand of Master Bruce.

"I'm here, son. I'm here." Alfred could barely make out his own voice.

Bruce's eyes finally focused on Alfred.

"Did he hurt you?" Alfred unsure of whom Master Bruce was referring to, but decided to play along.

"No, Master Wayne. I am fine." He paused, "And you, sir?"

Bruce closed his eyes while imagined fears changed faster than his brain could keep up with.

"My arm. I hurt it when I fell into this well. Can you get me out? It's so dark in here."

Alfred nodded and helped the young man to his feet while taking one last look at the rats scurrying through the trash.

"It is quite dark indeed, sir."

A little background. Updates soon. Reviews are welcomed!


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry everyone for not writing sooner. So much had been happening. I had lost my mother quite suddenly on July 4th and then I got LASIK which left me quite blurry. I am trying to get back to a schedule and hopefully this will be therapeutic. I must warn everyone that the content is a bit darker and will continue to be so since this is the story of Bruce and him coming to terms with his subconscious memories which are quite dark indeed. Please review ( LOVE REVIEWS) and I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters. DC does, but I love them as my own. I am not making any money on this. A few sections in this story also cam e from past comic editions (ex.silver age) where Bruce's history was revealed a bit differently. Some names have changed but DC owns them all (The funny thing is, I didn't realize the connection to my story until recently. I guess it was a subconscious thing I read and took in or some damn good guessing!)

Chapter 2

Alfred could hardly believe that he had gotten Master Bruce home without so much as a scratch on his face. During the car ride, Bruce had kept screaming and mumbling about being poisoned. Bruce refused to believe that the mask that was once covering his handsome features had now been removed , torn into two with the strength of his bare hands. Bruce continued to Alfred's dismay, pull on his flesh, clawing at the delicate skin attempting even to draw blood.

"Oh, God," he kept saying. "Why won't this monster let me go?"

Alfred wondered if Bruce had been discussing his predicament with an invisible entity or if it was a cry for help for his other self. Either way, Alfred couldn't tell. His vision was blurred with tears.

Alfred pulled up to the front door of Wayne Manor. Bruce's breathing had become ragged and strained. He could hardly keep his eyes on the young man's face. It looked ashen. Dark circles were forming under Bruce's hazel eyes which were barely able to remain open.

"Alfred…" soft whispers floated in the air as Alfred did his best to capture them even for a moment.

"I am here, Master Wayne."

Once the elder gentleman had gotten the younger one to his room, the darkness began to fall. Alfred let the curtains remain open hoping that if Bruce could see some light in the night shining through that he wouldn't give up wherever he was in his dark place.

"Master Wayne," Alfred started, "What happened, young sir?"

Bruce's eyes opened for but a moment. His face seemed to be relaxing. Suddenly, the gripping intensity of the hallucination he was having overcame even the strongest mind. Bruce's eyes became void of any light and Alfred heard him whispering something barely audible to his older ears. Alfred leaned in closer to Bruce's lips and realized he was hearing a tale that had never been told before. Maybe it was lost in the subconscious or perhaps a bit of this poison created it. However, even in false stories a grain of truth can always be found. Alfred knew that this was one truth he wished he didn't have to hear.

Bruce was once again 8 years old. He looked around his surroundings. He could see the fog thickening in the distance. He could feel the pavement beneath his $100.00 shoes. He could smell his mother's perfume and his gaze found hers. Was this real? Was this a second chance? Bruce's heart began to pound but he lacked the words to express it. As he was deciding his next move, he saw something he had never recalled during his flashbacks. Joe was in the distance watching and waiting, but so was someone else whispering and taunting him. It was Falcone. Bruce heard bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Do it, Chill. I will pay you big time to snuff 'em out. They are do gooders and they haven't done any good for you, have they?" Bruce could see Chill's eyes narrowing at that remark.

"If you take 'em out, the payoff will be big. I can guarantee you that. I mean I have never done you wrong now have I, Joe?" Joe's face softened as he turned to Falcone and nodded.

Bruce felt his body run cold. As 8 year old Bruce dealt with his demons, Alfred did his best to ward off the new ones trying to drown Master Bruce in his own mind. He didn't' seem to be doing a very good job. It had been nearly two hours since the toxin's admittance and Bruce was not showing any signs of getting better. The words he was mumbling about Chill and Falcone made little sense to Alfred, but he tried to piece it together while keeping his focus on the present and future where Bruce's attention rarely dwelled anymore.

Little Bruce, gazed down at his father's broken body, which was bleeding out from the wound. He saw him looking up at Bruce and trying to tell him to run. Bruce looked over expecting to see his mother's body on the ground as well, but it wasn't. Her flesh had not yet been harmed. Chill had her though. He was holding her close and looking at the spilled pearls he had torn from her porcelain colored neck. She was a beauty. Falcone never said he couldn't have a little extra. Chill glanced back into the alley at Falcone who simply nodded. Chill stepped over the begging Thomas Wayne (Falcone said he had begged for mercy.) and began to do things Bruce had never before witnessed in his young life. His face could barely lock onto his mother's pleading eyes. Thomas kept begging Bruce to run but Chill placed a gun on the boys' forehead and told him if he moved a muscle he would blow his brains out. Young Bruce felt an overwhelming need to vomit.

The need to vomit came through to the real world as Bruce throw up on the bed where he lay. Alfred, although unprepared, quickly cleaned up the mess and prayed that this was Bruce's way of fighting this toxin. Bruce's eyes had that same lost look Alfred had seen so often in the middle of the night in his past days caring for the young man. Bruce began to speak. Alfred had to move closer to hear the words and wished that he hadn't for they were all the same.

"He's raping her…, "he rasped, "He's raping her…"


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this story. It is inspired from movie scenes in Batman Begins.

I am not a psychologist but I had always wondered several things about Batman/Bruce Wayne. He did indeed survive quite a traumatic event, but what made him blame himself so insistently to the point of becoming another? Alfred was always supportive, yet Bruce was always angry and lost. Who said or what else made him become so lost? I hope that my version is falling into place with the way certain scenes were acted out in the movie. It seemed to make sense along the lines of this story. Enjoy!

Chapter 3

Alfred's eyes widened in horror at the realization of Bruce's words. My God, he thought. This child…no ...man had seen so much. What if this was just an effect from the hallucinogen? Perhaps…but Alfred sorely doubted it. Bruce, an 8 year old Bruce, had seen his parents not only murdered before his eyes, but also his own mother raped as well. Alfred knew more than ever, that Bruce must have such pain and sorrow in his heart. Bruce's subconscious had been working overtime not only to suppress such knowledge as a rape, but also that Falcone had plotted the murder and that Chill did not act alone. For anyone to be able to do that shows true evil, Alfred thought. The things those hazel eyes have seen, Alfred wondered gazing into Bruce's frightened ones. Alfred reached an old tired hand and grasped his ward's fingers holding on ever so gently.

"I am here, Master Wayne."

Bruce's distant eyes showed interest at this statement and looked straight into Alfred's brown eyes. Hs brow furrowed as he bit his lower lip stifling the tears that welled in his eyes.

Bruce was hearing Alfred. He heard everything his old friend had ever told him. He heard the voice that was in his room as well as the one that spoke only in his mind's past. Unfortunately, Bruce also heard another voice echoing in his heart. It was one he had buried deep inside of his soul. Although he refused to admit it, this voice was one that had inspired the Batman more than any other. As Bruce continued to keep his gaze on Alfred praying that the man's face wouldn't leave, he began to see another take his place. This face was not gentle and forgiving, but harsh and familiar. Bruce found himself falling into another buried memory.

Bruce was sitting in the police station clasping his eyes shut at every flash from the photographers. His eyes were raw from crying, but his voice held no words in them to ask for assistance. He was alone. He was truly alone. Well, not exactly, Bruce thought. Alfred would save me. He always came through in the end. That small feeling brought a tiny smile of comfort to Bruce's lips. It was to be short lived. A young officer bent down on his knee to look at Bruce. He could see the officer's sadness and even pity for him. Bruce said nothing. He merely reacted by trying to contain his father's coat so that it wouldn't be taken from him like everything else had. The young officer smiled and he assured Bruce that things would be OK. OK? How could it be? He was an orphan now. Even Bruce knew what that meant. He was no one's. Another officer came into the room and seemed quite angry at the first one, Bruce thought he heard the name Gordon mentioned (that of the young officer), before the new man told this Gordon to leave. The other officer (the captain) seemed to be telling Bruce that they had caught the man that had taken his world from him. He heard the captain but the words sounded far away. Bruce was numb and he felt nauseous. That is when the captain told him someone was here for him. Bruce jumped up eager to fall into the arms of the loving butler when his eyes were met with the eyes of his uncle.

"Philip Wayne, your uncle, correct, Bruce? He is here to take temporary custody of you until things are sorted out with the state concerning your guardianship." Bruce eyes gave him away as the captain finished, "It was written in your parent's will that an Alfred Pennyworth is to be in charge of you. Since this change had been made rather recently and since he is not a close relative, the law has decided to place you with your uncle for the time being. With your status," the captain sneered, "the law should move quickly for you clearing up this matter within a day or two at most. Either way, you are in good hands."

The captain smiled as he gave Bruce a small push to Philip. As a bewildered Bruce was left to the cameras, (which Uncle Philip seemed to relish) Bruce saw the frantic eyes of Alfred searching for him. Bruce, although knowing in his deepest heart that it wasn't Alfred's fault for this glitch in the law, he still blamed him. How could Alfred let him go? Young and old eyes met. Alfred knew that he was too late. Something had gone terribly wrong.

Alfred could tell by Bruce's mumblings that Bruce was recalling the day they had been separated because of the law. Once again the law interfered with the future. Alfred recalled along with Bruce…

Alfred wandered into the captain's office feeling overwhelmed. He was not only made aware minutes earlier that his employers and best friends were murdered, but had also realized that now he was to become a father. Alfred learned that not only did Bruce witness the entire event which Alfred was only told bits and pieces from, but that his guardianship was not in question. Alfred sat in the leather chair squirming uncomfortably trying to make sense of all this madness. He was supposed to care for this boy, a boy whom he had always loved as his own and yet he was taken from him.

"Do you have any questions, "the young officer asked.

Alfred looked into his brown eyes. The young officer had been trying to fill him in, but Alfred's mind was racing and few words had sunk in. Alfred continued to stare at the young man' twinkling eyes and busy mustache. His persona shone with loyalty and honestly which was becoming rarer and rarer lately in this city.

"When will I get to see Master Bruce, Officer Gordon?"

Gordon could sense the sadness and care this man had for the boy. The other man seemed angry at having to care for the boy. Gordon hoped that this Alfred would gain custody soon for Bruce's sake.

"It's hard to tell for sure Mr. Pennyworth," Gordon said with sadness.

Alfred knew that he would not be getting a straight answer for there was none to be found.

Bruce kept his arms held tightly on his lap on the car ride home as his wide eyes gazed out the window. Bruce had little contact with Uncle Philip. The last time had been almost 6 months ago. He had overheard Uncle Philip and his father arguing. The words didn't make sense to Bruce because of his youth, but it was something that clearly upset his father. When they had left that day, Bruce asked one question

"When would we be seeing Uncle Philip again, dad?"

Thomas Wayne kept his eyes forward.

"Never, Bruce."

Apparently never came a lot sooner than everyone thought.

Bruce arrived at his temporary home. Philip was not as well off as Thomas was but, he definitely had a life that many would consider to be luxurious. Bruce continued to be silent as if waiting for permission to speak. Philip just kept looking at Bruce with a sneer on his face. He just shook hi head.

"I knew you wouldn't amount to much. Can't even defend you."

Bruce grew confused. What did he mean defend myself? What was he suppose to do? The man had a gun.

Philip pulled the navy curtains from the bay window and gazed out while opening his bottle of whiskey.

"Yeah, my brother was a real piece of work and I guess his kid is just like him. Only good thing in your family was your mom. Nice piece of ass."

Philip turned to Bruce, "What are you? Mute? Say something, you little bastard!"

Bruce's continued to say nothing as Philip's anger turned to impatience. He grabbed Bruce's shirt and pulled him closer. Bruce could smell the alcohol on his breath. Beads of sweat began to form on Bruce's small forehead. At that moment Bruce wondered whom he was most afraid of, Philip or Chill?

"Listen, you little brat. I heard what you told the police. They told me everything. The whole thing was your fault. You hear me? No matter what anyone says, you were a coward. Couldn't stand a little play, you piece of shit."

His words spat at Bruce. Philip let go of the boy's shirt and took a swig of the bottle. Without looking him in the face he continued, "You disgust me. You don't deserve to be in the same room with me or anyone else for that matter."

Philip stood so still Bruce was terrified to breathe. Out of no where, Bruce felt his shirt being grabbed again and his whole body being shoved into a small dark closet. The door was shut swiftly behind him and even thought he whimpered and begged to be let out, Philip only continued to beret him and keep him in the dark until Bruce became one with it fighting off real demons and those in his head. The next day he was allowed to be with Alfred, but one day had made all the difference. Bruce was gone. Nothing but his shell remained.

Alfred refused to hold back the tears from falling as he heard Bruce relive his day with Uncle Philip while under the toxin. Who knew one day, mere hours apart could make such a difference. Now Alfred knew why Bruce was so different when he returned. He had ignored Alfred the whole day of the funeral. It was not only grief, but anger at being left alone with that madman. It wasn't until the evening when Alfred had offered to make supper that Bruce broke down. Alfred thought the boy was merely having survivor's guilt. Bruce truly believed he was the cause of his parent's death because of Philip. Thank the stars that Philip had taken a gun to his mouth a few years after Bruce's brief stay, Alfred thought. Unfortunately for Bruce, Philip's death could never erase the words and feelings that they left behind.

Alfred, while still holding Bruce's hand, suddenly felt the grip get stronger.

"I may not have been there before my boy, but I will never leave your side again."

Bruce continued to hold on.

Please review! Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters except for Tonya.

Enjoy!

This scene was inspired from the scene when Bruce comes back to the manor for the hearing. He seemed to give the impression of feeling awkward around Alfred. He almost wanted to fight with him, but Alfred didn't give in. This is another piece from Bruce's past that caused a rift between the two and only now will be healed.

Chapter 4

Bruce's breathing had become even more erratic. It was now the 12th hour to be exact. Alfred had been keeping tabs. What should he do? If any one else found out about his secret…Bruce would never forgive him. Then again, Bruce might not survive if help didn't come soon.

Bruce's handsome features were pale and lined with sweat. His lips had become a slight shade of blue and they moved rapidly saying things that Alfred couldn't or didn't understand. The things Bruce had confessed to already have Alfred seeking to squelch his own desire for sleep for fear of new nightmares. Alfred knew that sleep would not be held off forever and that it would take hold of his physic eventually. But not this hour…

Bruce's mind had been tormenting him to the point where reality had faded into the backdrop leaving only frightening images and desperation left. He tried to move his lips to speak to Alfred but the words that came out were barely above a whisper or not coherent. Bruce couldn't seem to make his mind and mouth work together. Time was running out and he knew it. Bruce closed his eyes. This was not the way he was supposed to die. Maybe he could change that. Mustering all of his strength, Bruce pulled his body upright with the strength that Alfred thought had passed him by. Bruce' s eyes opened and with a heavy heart tried his best to see past the concerned and bewildered look on Alfred's face and do what he needed to do. Once the gleam was spotted, Bruce rolled his body off of the bed and crawled quickly to the utility belt. With one swift motion a sharp edged Batarang was held in his hand and swiftly cut his flesh before Alfred could stop him. Although the wound was not life threatening at this point, Alfred saw that Bruce would make that possible if he let him. Alfred mustered all of his strength to hold Bruce's arms back. Even thought Bruce was weakened by the toxin, he could still hold up his end of a fight. Bruce's white undershirt had blood seeping out as he wielded the blade trying to divert its grasp out of Alfred's hands and into his own.

"I can't take this anymore!" Bruce shouted.

"The toxin…memories…poison in me…"

Alfred continued his hold until the loss of blood mixed in with the toxin weakened him to a gentle sleep. Alfred let go of the strong arms and found himself breathing quite heavily as well. He bent over to look at Bruce's wound. A little antiseptic should clean it up but he had cut deep. Perhaps it would need some stitching as well. As Alfred mended to the superficial wound, Bruce was remembering another wound which ran deeper between the two men.

Bruce recalled the springtime. The scent of lavender followed him all the way home from school. Usually a somber Bruce made the trek alone, but not today. Today he was seen hand in hand with a beautiful young woman. Her name was Tonya. She was 18 like him. Both were brilliant, ambitious, and very wealthy, although she was not nearly as wealthy as him. Her family was quite well off, but when it came to millions or billions in this town, Bruce was top of the chart. Bruce couldn't help but feel enamored by Tonya. Her raven black hair stood as a stark contrast to her porcelain features. Her brown eyes ran deep and mischievous. Her body was slender and curvy and only made Bruce long for her more. Although his reputation preceded him, Bruce had never shared himself with any woman before. That was about to change today.

Bruce had invited Tonya to the manor for the first time in their six month relationship. He truly believed that she was quite different from the rumors he had heard about her. He had never seen her be unfaithful to him and never once initiated sex. Perhaps the remarks of her virginity were soiled through jealous girlfriends seeking to be her. Whatever the case, Bruce had taken a large step allowing her to descend not only into his home but his heart as well.

Tonya shyly eyed Bruce up and down. She had put six months into the boy billionaire and couldn't wait to get a hold of him and his money. He was always so depressed that even their dates were almost disastrous if it wasn't for the make outs sessions. God and now to be able to be intimate in this manor, she couldn't wait. As they approached the end of the walkway, Bruce placed his book bag down and pushed his brown hair out of his eyes. Tonya thought it was very cute how it seemed to keep dodging his eyes along with his boyish grin. Bruce opened the door and gestured,

"After you."

Tonya felt her heart stand still. The manor was even more beautiful than she could ever have imagined it to be. The carpeting along the side rooms was a plush maroon. The hardwood floors near the grand staircase sparkled and looked as if they were made for a royal ball. Tonya noticed the odd stare Bruce was giving her and she realized that she was clutching her school bag tighter than anticipated.

"Are you OK?" Bruce asked concerned.

Tonya attempted to be nonplussed concerning the state of the manor and continued her lie.

"Oh yeah, I just can't believe how lucky you really are to have all of this."

Bruce placed his book bag and moved hers off the side of the door.

"Yeah, but I would give anything to make that different."

Tonya could sense another brooding session and interrupted.

"Not today Bruce, "she said her arms encircling his waist. "Today is our day."

Bruce returned her smile with a lopsided grin and began to kiss her. A faint cough interrupted them. Bruce looked over to see Alfred standing there hands behind his back. Bruce nervously straightened himself out and extended his hand to Alfred.

"Alfred I would like you to meet Tonya."

Alfred gave Tonya a glance up and down and immediately sensed her inner character. Bruce had spoken of her often, but something in his words seemed not right to Alfred's ears and now he knew why. She was a gold digger. Her family's wealth was not enough to satisfy her and she was about to take advantage of a young man's heart.

Tonya extended a tentative hand sensing the thoughts that ran through Alfred's mind. She knew the first thing that would change once she was living there was to get rid on him.

"A pleasure, Alfred. Now if you don't mind, could you get us something to drink while we study?"

Alfred nodded curtly.

"As you wish, Miss."

Tonya smiled sweetly and then turned her attention back to an enamored Bruce.

"Now where shall we go?"

Bruce grinned.

"I was thinking my room, "he responded quietly.

Tonya continued her fake smile. He really was a pathetic case, she thought. No excitement, no adventurous nature brooding beneath…it was sad really.

"I have a suggestion."

Bruce's ears perked up.

She leaned over and whispered into his ear making sure she was breathing directly into it.

"I was thinking of making love in front of a fireplace with you in one of the biggest rooms you have. Does that sound good?" She ended the sentence rubbing his crotch until he grew hard.

"Sure, "Bruce said. "Anything sounds good as long as it is with you."

Tonya nodded in agreement while rolling her eyes when her back turned.

The two started to walk toward one of the rooms that Bruce had chosen. It was beautiful. Ancient tapestries hung across the walls all of the colors in unison. A fireplace was present but not lit for there was no need. Bruce went over to it and began to get it started. Tonya took a seat on the couch. It was leather and the purest of its kind. She couldn't keep her small hands off of it. This would be fun, she thought. I will get to sleep with one of the hottest and richest guys from Gotham Academy as well as become an established socialite. Who could ask for more?

Bruce stood back up from his crouched position near the stone fireplace. The flame flickered and brought out his hazel eyes as he closed the heavy drapes. Bruce gazed at her, savoring the moment.

He couldn't wait to be with her. All of those months of waiting, waiting to see if she was the right one. He had been so vulnerable since his parents' death. Not even Bruce himself would admit to it. Now the wall had begun to come down and hopefully with Tonya's help would continue to collapse.

"God, you're beautiful."

Tonya looked into his eyes. They were full of such sorrow. They had seen so much but yet were so innocent. Could she go through with this? Even she began to wonder for a moment if she could. Only for a moment…

Bruce sat down next to her not sure of what should come next. Tonya got off of the couch and began to unbutton her shirt. She sat on Bruce's lap straddling him. She bent down to receive his welcoming kisses. Bruce was an amazing kisser, Tonya thought. His tongue found hers with such passion she thought her heart would come bursting through. His hands slid up her shirt in the back until they found her small breasts in the front. Tonya pushed down a bit on his crotch releasing a groan from Bruce.

"Hmm…" Tonya murmured. "You certainly are ready for me aren't you?"

Bruce continued to kiss her neck while nodding. He paused for a moment and breathed,

"I love you."

Tonya's eyes widened at the revelation, but continued to act the part.

"Let me get ready for you OK?"

Bruce just nodded. Tonya got off of his lap leaving Bruce longing for more. He brushed his hair out of his eyes and watched her leave. He leaned back in the couch smiling with satisfaction. He knew that he was not making a mistake.

Tonya covered up herself in case she ran into that pesky butler. Maybe I should let him have a show too, she thought smiling. She ducked into a room and pulled out her phone.

Alfred didn't forget the request for drinks. He had poured some juice for the two. He wasn't moving as quickly as usual for fear that he would find a special surprise waiting for him in one of the rooms where the two declared to be "studying". Alfred and Bruce had never really spoken about issues like this whether out of fear or embarrassment. Alfred didn't even know or want to know to an extent the nature of his ward's sexual life. In this case however, perhaps intervention was necessary. Closing his eyes in prayer he asked the Waynes for guidance before embarking to find the young lovers.

Tonya's voice could be heard a bit down the hall while Alfred walked toward it thinking that that must be where they were "studying." As he approached he realized that the conversation was one sided.

"I know, Casey, can you believe it? Yeah I am actually about to lay Gotham's most elite bachelor boy. "

She laughed, and Alfred couldn't' make out what was said next. Whatever it was sounded degrading or foul depending whom heard it. Then he heard Tonya mention something about scoring more than Bruce. With Bruce came money and with money came status. Her father didn't have enough and if she wanted to be anywhere in life only Bruce's money could do it. Alfred pulled back careful not to let the tray make a sound. He edged away from the door deeply saddened from that revelation. He had the fear that it was the case but hearing it directly from her broke his heart. How would he tell Bruce?

Alfred went back to the kitchen for a moment to gather his thoughts while Tonya went to find Bruce.

Bruce sat nervously rubbing his hands along his knees. He was fighting the urge to touch himself until she came back. He also realized that he would have to be ready. In one hand he clutched a wrapped condom and with the other he braced himself for the most wonderful moment in his young life.

Tonya emerged. She seemed a bit more seductive than she had been in the past six months. Her black lace bra shone a bit more from her unbuttoned shirt and her skirt appeared a little shorter. Bruce couldn't keep the smile off of his face. Tonya returned to her past position on Bruce's lap endearing him with sweet kisses down his neck. He returned the favor and began to bury his head in her chest. Within seconds Bruce heard a knock on the door and heard a tea tray clanging to the floor.

Alfred's eyes knew as he began to immediately clean up the spilled juice.

"So sorry, sir. "I thought you two were studying."

Alfred looked back up at the bewildered Bruce who had pushed Tonya aware in haste.

"Studying chemistry I see, Sir?"

Bruce found his words difficult to come by.

"Uh…I uh…"

Tonya rolled her eyes.

"Alfred thank you for finally brining the drinks. I assure you that your services are no longer needed at this time. Please go dust something will you?"

Alfred glared at her for a moment before returning his attention to Bruce.

"I do not believe you are the one to make demands, Miss."

Bruce barely looked Alfred in the eyes.

He couldn't say anything.

Tonya gave an aggravated look to Bruce.

"Tell him to leave. What's the matter? Don't tell me you changed your mind?"

With a swift move of her hand to his groin she declared, "Not according to this you haven't."

Bruce's humiliation was becoming worse.

"God, I can't believe you."

Bruce looked into Tonya's brown eyes ablaze with fury.

"I can't believe I went through all of this, "she gestured toward Bruce, "and I still won't get this," she gestured toward the manor.

"No wonder you're a virgin," Tonya declared buttoning up her shirt.

She took a last look in Alfred's direction.

"What can I expect anyway? You were raised by the help."

Alfred's voice quiet though stern said, "I think you better leave, Miss."

"I can find my way out thanks," Tonya said

With that she walked out of Bruce's life forever.

Bruce went into shock. What had just transpired? Did she not love him? Or did she love this, he thought of the manor and the wealth he had acquired. When the door slammed shut behind her, Bruce jolted. Alfred reached out a hand to Bruce's shoulder. Bruce jerked it away. The walls were rebuilding.

"Master Bruce, I…"

"Don't Alfred," Bruce warned.

Alfred felt the need to continue.

"Sir, you had to see…"

Bruce spun around to his old friend.

"No, I didn't have to see. I was happy. Do you even understand what that means to me? Happiness? For the first time in ten years…I was happy. She made me happy and you took that away from me," the last words were said in a whisper. Bruce paused allowing the words to sink in. Alfred's heart began to beat. He had expected Bruce to be angry but no this. Not like this…

"Bruce… "Alfred continued.

Bruce held up his hand in protest.

"You know what. Tonya's right." Their eyes met. "Maybe I should let you go. You are only holding me back."

"Sir, no matter what you might think you now know, you still need guidance…"

"No! I am 18 and about to go off to college. I think I can do without guidance at this time."

Alfred smirked.

"You are right, sir. You are definitely in no position to need guidance now."

Bruce's anger rose to its limit and before realizing what was about to happen he shouted,

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU!"

The words were screamed over and over again until they burned a permanent hole into Alfred's heart and memory. Alfred walked away from Bruce closing the door behind him still hearing Bruce's screams and pounding fists on the door.

In the present, Alfred's was vividly relieving the past along with a screaming nearly 30 year old Bruce writhing in pain on the floor where he had fallen earlier. The bleeding caused from the Batarang seemed under control with the stitches Alfred had administered. The words of pure hatred coming from Bruce's voice and opened eyes aimed at him , Alfred, a wraith from his past. Alfred felt the familiar urge to leave Bruce alone as he did before, but he stopped. The last time he had left, Bruce hadn't spoken a word to him for the next two months before leaving for Princeton. Upon Bruce's return for Chill's hearing, things seemed strained and Bruce seemed angry. He still felt that Alfred had no reason to care for him since he wasn't his biological son. Alfred continued to stay by his side, even when Bruce tried to pick a fight with him.

This time Alfred closed the opened door before him and went back over to the screaming man. That's when he noticed something he hadn't seen before. He hadn't seen it because the first time Alfred had left Bruce alone . This time, he didn't. Bruce was still mumbling something about hate, but mixed in the pounding fists, the words grew weaker but Bruce's memories stronger and the tears flowed freely.

"Sorry…so sorry Alfred…I didn't mean…"

Bruce sobbed lying on the floor of the manor like he had so many years ago.

Alfred bent down and placed his arms around Bruce's sides helping him up. Bruce saw Alfred…his Alfred…the Alfred of the past and the one in the present.

He hugged the older man fiercely.

"Please don't give up on me…"he whispered.

Alfred returned the whisper.

"Never."

Please review. I really love them! It encourages me to write more


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own any other the characters. DC comics does. Sections of this chapter refer to the Batman Begins movie (spoilers included.)

It was now close to the 16th hour. Alfred had been fighting the fatigue along with Bruce's demons. How much longer would it be humanly possible for this old man to be mentally aware if needed? His young charge had fallen asleep after his last episode. Although Alfred finally knew the reason for Bruce's anger and rage, with much of it being aimed at him, Alfred himself could not forget his own feelings of displeasure at recalling such an event. Master Bruce's words of I hate you! Still rang in his ears and his memory more often than not. Today was like no other except the forbidden words were said out loud again. Alfred tried his best to put it past him. What good would it do to dwell upon it? Decisions were made and Alfred only wished some of them could have been made better.

An old buried memory, one which didn't find its way into Alfred's consciousness too often, was making its way back. After Master Bruce had left for college, Wayne manor had become like the mausoleum Bruce always claimed it was. Sheets covered the furniture to prevent the dust from gathering. Most of the items in the house were merely visited once a day by an old friend who was left to care for them. Alfred sorely missed Master Bruce especially since they had left each other on such ill terms. He found his heart lightening a bit knowing that Bruce would soon be here again even if it was for the hearing.

Alfred found himself smiling at that memory and the feeling it brought. Now looking down at the twisted body gasping for the air he breathed made Alfred wish more and more that the past had been very different, very different indeed as he remembered that fateful day with the hearing.

Alfred helped Master Bruce into the house with his bags. Bruce had been silent most of the car ride home. He seemed to still be holding a grudge against Alfred for the past. It didn't matter now anyway. That Bruce had faded almost as quickly as he had come. This Bruce that now stood before Alfred was a changed man, one that cared only for his own pleasures and lacked the dignity and gentleness that once illuminated him. This Bruce had been with more women than he could remember and didn't care for any of them. The feelings were almost always mutual since these women only cared for the greener part of Bruce which he never allowed them to have anyway. Bruce kept noticing Alfred eying him up and down and politely asking him if he was going to stay in Gotham or not. Bruce smiled and shook his head declaring that he was only back for the hearing and nothing more. For some reason however, Bruce doubted that Alfred believed his story and a feeling of panic rose into his chest. Alfred couldn't know about the gun. Could he?

Alfred had indeed sensed something was wrong with his charge, very wrong, but did his best to keep his place as well as guide his falling son. Only a few days before Bruce's arrival, Alfred had gotten a phone call.

"Hello, Wayne residence."

The other end of the line paused and then cautiously asked, "Is this the residence of Bruce Wayne? "

Alfred smiled and continued, "Yes, indeed, but Master Wayne is not in at the moment. May I take a message?"

The man on the other end of the line continued on nervously, "No, I will try him again later. Thank you."

The phone call ended almost as quickly as it had begun. Alfred shrugged and hung up the phone only then realizing that he hadn't even asked who had called. Checking the caller ID, he noticed something that made his heart fall. It was from Jim's Gun Shop not too far from Gotham, but still far enough for Bruce to wander and definitely not in his character. Alfred ran his fingers absentmindedly over the phone number wondering what Bruce was thinking. Did he mean to harm himself, or perhaps another?

Alfred's thoughts had been interrupted when the clock chimed and he realized he had to pick his charge up. He sighed. Perhaps he would see.

Alfred continued to eye Bruce's sleeping frame. He seemed so innocent right now and so fragile. Bruce looked like for once he was sleeping peacefully that was until a frightful vision from his past began to interrupt his slumber.

Bruce was once again back in the mansion returning Alfred's stare. He smiled and began to walk up the manor steps. Alfred seemed very interested in Bruce and his schooling. Bruce told Alfred he would not be returning. Alfred seemed crestfallen. What could Bruce say? Gee Alfred, I don't think Princeton will accept a murderer back into school…no. Alfred could never know about this. This was between Bruce and Chill. Bruce continued to be lost in his own thoughts but it seemed as though Alfred kept nagging him about one thing or another. Either it was about the master bedroom or about school. God, why did he care so much? No matter what Bruce said, Alfred had some words ready to respond matching wits with the young charge. Bruce in an arrogant voice tired of the battle of wits begged the question if he should keep his past buried with his parents. Alfred told him that he wouldn't tell him what to do with his past but that he cared only for his future. Bruce froze and timidly stared into the eyes of his surrogate father. He really hasn't given up on me, no matter what I have done and I am sure he had heard some stories. Alfred smiled in return.

Alfred hoped that this small word "never" would be enough to help Bruce out of his despair. He wanted Bruce to know that he wasn't alone in his fears or his feelings. Alfred would always be his family even though it wasn't blood. Unfortunately there wasn't much more Alfred could do to reach out to Bruce, but hope that the young man understood Alfred's plea.

Bruce went into his room and eyed the gun. The way Alfred acted today was odd… maybe he does know about the gun. God, what am I doing? Bruce thought.

Alfred nervously dusted. He refused to watch the trial on TV. He was quite fearful that either Bruce would murder Chill or do something to himself. Either option was not pleasurable. Alfred prayed.

Alfred's memories returned to the present as he sat looking at the clock. It was nearing the 18th hour and Bruce had yet to awaken. Maybe he is getting better, Alfred thought. He reached a tentative hand to place a cool compress on his head. Suddenly he felt a hand grabbing his arm. Bruce's eyes opened pleading with Alfred's.

"It was for him. It was always meant for him."

Alfred's brow furrowed in sadness. The truth was told. Bruce was planning on being a murderer. Alfred's first instinct was to pull his hand away from Bruce. Bruce wouldn't let it go.

"Please understand," his eyes looked wild.

"If that woman didn't step in, my fate would have been very different. I may not have been with you here right now." His arm grew weak. "Maybe I deserve this, poison in my veins."

Alfred gazed at his charge and sighed. He felt his own hand grip Bruce's arm tighter.

"Bruce, you may have had the desire to harm Chill but you didn't."

Bruce closed his eyes unable to face Alfred.

"I didn't because the chance was taken from me."

Alfred cocked his head to the side.

"Was it?"

Bruce looked disgustedly at Alfred.

"I don't have the mentality to play these games old man."

Alfred smiled.

"Whatever your original intentions Master Wayne, you didn't follow through with them. There is nothing to be forgiven for."

Bruce refused to listen.

"Another sin searching for redemption."

Alfred shook his head and whispered softly "Oh, Bruce." Then he said something he promised he would never say,

"Bury your past."

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. For some reason, I had a hard time getting to it. I am going on vacation to Disney World soon and I think I have Mickey Mouse on the brain! Please, please , please review! I love reviews of any kind.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters. They belong to DC

I took a few liberties time wise in this chapter. Only 1 or 2 more to go. I hope you all like it. Pleaser review! PLEASE!

Bruce awoke to sweat covered sheets. He gazed at the clock. 4Am. The day, the time, none of it mattered. What did matter? Bruce began to crawl out of his sheets to find out.

Alfred had fallen asleep. It was not a deep slumber but one that much needed. Without warning he was jolted awake at the touch of a hand. His eyes panicked lost in the middle of a dream only to see Bruce carefully pulling string from a button on his wool sweater. Bruce's eyes were so intense that Alfred for a moment wasn't sure if he was awake, asleep or had finally fallen pray to the toxin's poison completely. Alfred inched away from Bruce's prying fingers. As Bruce saw the button slowing edging from his grasp, he turned his eyes up to Alfred's. An amused yet sinister smile preyed upon his lips. His face looked ghastly white almost as if death had already fallen upon him.

"Master Wayne?" Alfred whispered in fear, what are you doing?"

Bruce continued to stare at the button slowing entwining the fallen strings into a knot.

"Did you know that scarecrows are created to terrorize?"

Alfred baffled by the simplicity of Bruce's statement remained silent.

"They are you know much more complicated than we had realized, you see. They are twisted and thin, yet so strong…so strong…"

Alfred was at a loss as to what Bruce meant.

"So much, they are sir. You have wonderful buttons my friend. They are so beautiful, simple, and continuous. Press one and the answer will come. "

Answer? Could Bruce be talking about a solution in his riddled mind?

"Hold on…No! Leave me alone!" Bruce began to scream and cower in the corner of darkness he had found on the bed, hidden from any moonlight.

Alfred turned sharply behind only to see nothing. The images were becoming stranger for Bruce. There seemed to be no end. It was nearing the 22nd hour. What should he do? Alfred had been entrusted with the sacred secret of this man, his son. Could he break that trust? Would Bruce disapprove even though getting help would save his life?

As Alfred pondered his next move, Bruce reached out his arm from the darkness grasping Alfred's tightly. Alfred could only see half of Bruce's grimace in the moonlight while the other side was banished in darkness.

"Follow the fox, my friend, for they are the cleverest of creatures."

Alfred met Bruce's eyes and nodded.

"Indeed they are sir, followed closely by the bat."

Alfred sensed a grin forming on Bruce's lips. Alfred picked up the telephone and called Lucius.

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	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7-24 hours

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, but I wish I did.

Sorry this chapter is so short. I had to introduce Lucius somehow. Hope you like and please review! IT makes me write faster

Lucius was fast asleep when he received the call. His groggy voice was greeted by Alfred's hesitant one.

"Mr. Fox? I am terribly sorry to wake you sir but there seems to be a problem with Master Wayne…"

Fox sat up immediately shaking away the remnants of sleep.

"Problem? What sort of problem?"

Alfred hesitated and didn't quite know what to say. Fox disregarded it.

"Never mind, Alfred. I'll be right there."

Fox hung up the phone while his heart beat anxiously in anticipation of what he would find.

Alfred gazed over at Bruce who had been pulling at a single thread concentrating on it and weaving and manipulating it into various designs.

"Is the fox so clever as to outwit the raven's master?"

Alfred's brow knitted taking into consideration Bruce's words. His mind was only working on 2 hours of sleep at best.

"I am sure he will do his best, sir."

Bruce's lost look saddened Alfred. As he went to extend a hand to the young man, the doorbell rang. Bruce's eyes shot in the bedroom's door direction.

"I will be back, Master Wayne."

Bruce looked puzzled as Alfred left his ward's care for a moment to hopefully greet his cure.

Fox was greeted by an old Alfred. He could see that the butler hadn't slept in what looked like days.

"Alfred?"

Alfred gestured Fox inside.

"Upstairs, Lucius and hurry."

Fox entered Bruce's room. The moonlight cast an eerie glow on the bedpost and furniture in the room. His eyes scanned for Bruce, but came up empty handed.

"Where is he Alfred?"

Alfred was about to point to the bed when he noticed its vacancy. Bruce was gone.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8-24 hours

Alfred tiptoed throughout the room calling Bruce's name.

"Bruce…where are you. Someone is here to see you. It is the fox you asked for."

Lucius stared at Alfred and shook his head at his words. What exactly was going on here?

Then in the corner of the room Alfred noticed a shadow hunched over near the windowsill. It was almost hidden perfectly until the slightest movement gave him away.

"Master Wayne? It's ok Sir, Lucius is here…"

"I don't have time to talk to anyone."

Alfred took a step back at the gruff tone Bruce was using. It almost sounded like…Batman.

Bruce looked over at the two fools. What do they know? I need to save this city, he thought. Only I can save it. The corruption runs so deep that even Gotham's own justice is trading favors with sin.

Fox came forth to Bruce and tried to make some sense of this madness.

Mister Wayne sir. I heard you weren't feeling like yourself and I have something here that may help you."

"I am never myself," replied Bruce.

Fox smiled. "Really. Let me see who you are then."

Bruce moved like the shadow he hid within so that only Fox could see his eyes in shining in the moonlight.

"Keep guessing."

The initial shook and tone Bruce greeted him with caused Lucius to step back. He looked over to Alfred for help, but Alfred only nodded urging Fox forward in his mission. Bruce crouched down with one arm over his body as if holding an imaginary cape.

Fox knew that whatever was happening was not a good thing for Bruce and action needed to be done quickly. Hoping that this "character" (although Lucius had a strong inclination of who) Bruce was would come to the rescue of an old friend. Fox lunged quickly and suddenly toward Alfred knocking him to the ground. Alfred landed with a thump while Lucius continued to attempt to strike him. Bruce leapt from where he was protectively in front of Alfred. His face…the look he had would frighten even the bravest of knights.

"No one hurts anyone in my city."

Bruce leapt for Fox only to find a sudden calm come over him as the needle reached its target. Bruce slumped over landing peacefully on the bed. Alfred picked himself up off of the floor and dusted his sweater.

"Well, Lucius, remind me not to invite you over for afternoon tea any time soon."

Lucius smiled and began to draw Bruce's blood.

"I am sure if Bruce knew what I was doing to him, he would say the same thing."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. Please enjoy this last chapter. Feel free to read and review as always! Thank you!

I had to incorporate some of the scene from the Batman Begins movie to set up for the final dialogue just to fill anyone in who for some reason hasn't seen the movie yet!

Bruce awoke to find a relieved Alfred sitting next to his bedside. Bruce wondered how long he had been unconscious for. When Alfred replied days and wished him a happy birthday, Bruce wondered if Alfred was joking. Was it some kind of bad dream? No it must have been real. He had felt these effects before with different circumstances. While in an attempt to explain to Alfred the situation he experienced, a new but welcomed voice entered the conversation. Bruce swallowed hard when he realized Fox had been there for part of the journey. How much had he said, Bruce wondered? What did Fox know?

Fox merely stood about smiling and trying to explain to Bruce about how he had to synthesize the antidote. Bruce feigned ignorance at his explanation although he understood every word Fox was saying. Lucius played along informing Bruce that yes he could make more of the antidote, but what would be the reason for it? Bruce tried to be funny in order to break the tension as well as get Lucius out of the house as quickly as possible. Bruce just realized that today being his birthday did not mean rest and relaxation, but a party with the prestige of Gotham. Not a favorite past time for Bruce.

After Fox finally left, Bruce turned toward Alfred attempting to meet the older gentleman's eyes.

Alfred smirked.

"I see you have had quite a few bad days Master Wayne."

Bruce attempted a grin of his own.

"Yeah, that toxin, I should have been more prepared…"

Alfred interrupted, "I wasn't just talking about the past two days, sir."

Bruce nodded finally able to look into Alfred's eyes.

"I know," he said, "I know."

Alfred nodded and stood up from Bruce's bedside.

"Very well then," he stated as a matter of fact as he began to leave.

"Alfred wait, "Bruce called out with one arm outstretched.

"I wanted to say …"he hesitated. He was never one to apologize. Normally Alfred wasn't one to need to hear it but this time he needed to.

"I'm sorry for the things that happened …between us…you know ...in the past?"

Bruce began fumbling with his words. Alfred raised his hand to stop him from speaking and laid it to rest upon Bruce's weak arm.

"I know, Master Wayne. I am too. There is one thing I need for you to know." Alfred stared directly into his charge's ashen face.

"I need you to know that you can always trust in me for any secret or pain you need to share, no matter if it is 24 hours old or 24 years old." he stressed implying Bruce's injuries both mental and physical.

"Those feelings will never change Master Wayne."

Alfred stood up about to leave before softly adding, "And neither will I."

The END

I hope you all enjoyed this segment from the Batman Begins movie. Please as always feel free to read and review. Catch my next story IN BETWEEN next! Thank you!


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